Nor is there one of us to be spared, but will be each of us in our turn taken to the pit and cast away.
I feel increasingly like one of the officers rearranging the deck chairs as the icy water drags the behemoth down. Yes, it’s pointless, but really they do look better arranged in rows of four, don’t you think?
We do what we can, we do what seems right, or the least wrong, and there’s beauty enough in that.
We have moved out of our house and into our back yard. With our kid and her kid and another baby on the way, we’ve abandoned the house for them and let them have it. The Woman and I have moved into the little studio I built a few years ago that we have been letting the girl and her baby live in for the last two years. By studio I mean a one-room glorified shed.
It perhaps sounds nutty but it’s wonderful really. Another opportunity to toss out unwanted shit, to scale back, to simplify, to downsize. Another chance to change things up, shake things up, take charge, move those deck chairs around. Ignore that gnashing and rending sound as the iceberg peels the rivets off the hull plates, there’s nothing to be concerned about. I built us a loft so we can sleep “upstairs” and have a kitchen and living area “downstairs.” Next up is building a bathroom and closet off the studio,which will get underway this weekend weather permitting.
We’re getting our Tiny House on.
We give up space and convenience and receive in return total peace and privacy and the sense of having got into a very smart lifeboat.
Well played, sir.
The great good thing is, as always, my woman. Without whom I would be lost and utterly so. She moves in this world in her own way and it is obscure to me, yet I would follow no other. I can’t even use words. None approach her correctly. She’s as pitiless as space sometimes. Yet she consoles me when I wound myself on the hard edges of the world.
If I could figure her out, then what? I’d be the poorer for it.
I aim to love her till I’m used up.